


The World Was Wide Enough

by annabymilton



Category: X-Men (Movieverse), X-Men - All Media Types
Genre: AU based on hamilton kind of, Angst with a Happy Ending, Fluff and Angst, M/M, Not Beta Read, blame sarah, pls read this
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-06-04
Updated: 2016-06-04
Packaged: 2018-07-12 07:20:30
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,129
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7091302
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/annabymilton/pseuds/annabymilton
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Two men stand across from each other on a sandy beach and only one of them can leave.</p>
            </blockquote>





	The World Was Wide Enough

It was inevitable, really. They had been both friends and enemies, or maybe neither; they had always been the center of the other's universe, as both a positive and a negative force. It only made sense for one of them to die at the others hands-- pistol, as it were-- after swearing to not use their mutation. But nothing about them had ever made sense, had ever been about this poetic justice these last moments seemed to take on here. They had always been passion, at least around one another.

Raven was there, the number two for both of them. She hadn't really wanted to, hadn't wanted to see the people most important to her die, but she was impartial. She was the only other person they cared for nearly as much as the other. Arms folded, head down, she stood closest to the ocean. 

Erik already stood parallel, staring blankly to watch Charles, who seemed to be studying the terrain, eyes down. It only took him a moment longer to settle across from Erik and face him. Everything in Erik wanted to cross the distance between them and push back Charles' hair. The wind off the sea was making it block his line of sight and if he was going to shoot, he could be able to take deadly aim. It was better he win, he was the better of the two to Erik. Part of him must have been projecting his thoughts (or Charles just knew him well enough to know what he was thinking) because Charles pushed his hair back from his face.

Charles' shoulders were set, like a soldier. Raven turned around, preferring to watch the ocean than face what was about to happen.

As Charles focused on the gun in his hand to check for any mistakes, Erik focused on his hand movements. The swipe of his index finger over the trigger, the light flicking off of the safety, the run of his nail around the rim of the barrel. Erik wanted him to win, his mind reaching out to where he sensed the metal of the exit chamber of his pistol and distorted it. He couldn't let himself fight against Charles fair.

Raven counted to ten. Erik had only one thought: he wouldn't let Pietro and Wanda be orphans.

 

* * *

 

 

_Charles had imagined his own death so often that he wasn't afraid now. When he first met Erik, saving him from drowning, he had seen the firm determination in the other man's eyes and thought that he would drown there with him. When they first fought, he saw a pure rage in his eyes and he thought for sure that was it._

_He had only imagined Erik's death once. The sun was sifting down from the trees and he was aiming a gun at his Erik. They stood ten paces apart back then too, the only difference was, Erik wasn't armed. He was smiling, teasing Charles, trying to get him to pull the trigger so he could stop the bullet. B_ _ut Charles couldn't do it. Even without the intent to kill, Charles couldn't take deadly aim._

_That day was the first day they touched for more than a fleeting moment. Erik, pulling the gun to his own head, his hands gripping Charles', his fingertips imploring for him to pull the trigger. And Charles could feel that a part of him didn't want to stop the bullet._

_History repeats itself._ _Charles couldn't keep his hand steady. He couldn't take deadly aim._

_At the count of ten, he looked up and he could see the blue sky. He looked up and he could see the oppressive grey weight of storm clouds forming. He looked up and he could see the sun lighting the backs of pigeons, the same dark color as Erik's eyes. He looked up and he could find an imaginary spot in the sky. He looked up and he could aim at the sky._

 

* * *

 

 

Erik pulled the trigger, hands steady with the knowledge that there was no way the bullet would keep its aim. Erik pulled the trigger, hands steady with the knowledge that he would be the first one of them to die. 

Erik pulled the trigger and could feel the bullet flying straight, to Charles' ribs. Erik pulled the trigger and could feel the other pistol move from its aim. A voice he realizes is his yells out for the bullet to stop. His hand moves as fast as it can and he reaches out to stop the bullet. He calls it back to his hand, flying into his open palm, digging itself into the flesh, and he's weak. He drops his gun and can't catch his breath and he's weak.

He sees blood on the front of Charles' button-up, he sees confusion in those blue eyes, he sees the pistol fall from Charles' hand to the ground and everything in him fears that he was too late and that his Charles will die anyway. 

But Charles laughs. He marvels, though his voice is almost timid, "You stopped it."

Erik shakes his head, his eyes sting and he feels the warmth of tears pool under his eyes. "You're bleeding."

"Erik."

It's his name, his name in that quiet accent and Erik looks up. Charles had made his way across the sand in the past few moments and his hand moves to settle on Erik's cheek, thumb running lightly over the stubble there.

Charles is smiling and he repeats before finishing, "Erik, it's barely more than a paper cut."

Erik feels like an idiot for kissing him then, for being so emotional that he can't think of any other way to express his happiness, but the almost smile he feels against his lips makes up for it.

"I hate to ruin the moment," Raven says, voice dripping with relief and the hint of sarcasm that never fully leaves, "But Xavier definitely still needs medical attention if you don't want the wound getting infected."

Charles laughs again, smiling and saying in a quiet tone, "And you, Erik, have a wound too." 

His hand moves to take Erik's, fingertips soft, half tracing the injury in the palm of his hand. Carefully, tearing his eyes away from Erik to the wound to pry the bullet out. "There. A stigmata of sorts."

"Charles, I'm Jewish."

Charles drops the bullet on the ground, looks up, and smiles. "Take the compliment. I'm calling you my savior."

* * *

It was inevitable, really. They had been both friends and enemies, or maybe neither; they had always been the center of the other's universe, as both a positive and a negative force. It only made sense that they would fall in love. It only made sense that they would save each other.

**Author's Note:**

> ur welcome


End file.
